


Little Lamb

by c4rc4ss (porcelain_cats)



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Cannibalism, Dehumanization, F/M, Hand Feeding, M/M, Master/Pet, Other, Wound Fucking, all implied to be consensual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-07-14 12:49:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16040810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/porcelain_cats/pseuds/c4rc4ss
Summary: You're Hux's prized pet, and sometimes his dinner.





	Little Lamb

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tinfoil (milkystarlight)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/milkystarlight/gifts).



You weren’t quite sure how long it had been since your relationship with General Hux changed. These days you didn’t have to concern yourself with time - or much else, really. You weren’t an officer anymore. **  
**

Instead, you had become his devoted pet.

You had always admired him from afar, so taken with his cold demeanor and penchant for cruelty, and the soft, pretty face that contradicted those other attributes. He seemed untouchable yet unwanted - as far as you knew, you had no competition for his affections. Nobody else desired the friendless, socially-inept general the way you did. Luckily, he seemed to desire you too. Despite fiercely rebuffing you when first propositioned, there was a hopeful glint in his eyes like he wanted you to try again. So you did - over and over - until now.

Hux’s quarters were modestly sized and he kept you cold. When this arrangement was just beginning, you had complained about the temperature and received a spanking for it.

“Not so cold now are you, pet? Not after this,” Hux had scolded. He was right. After the punishment your body felt hot all over, in equal parts humiliation, arousal, and pain.

Though nude most of the time, you learned to appreciate the chill of the room, particularly when Hux returned from a long shift to embrace you. The warmth of his skin and breath sent shivers down your spine and you would press yourself as close as humanly possible, melting under his touch.

Today you found yourself wrapped in that same possessive embrace, humming with joy that your master was finally home.

“Did you miss me today?” Hux asked, pulling back to look into your eyes. You whined in the affirmative, earning an awkward twitch of a smile from Hux. Though he essentially owned you, Hux could still be bashful, surprised that you would actually miss him and look forward to his return.

A whisper of leather traced the shape of your lips and your eyes fluttered closed as you took his gloved thumb into your mouth. Even if it didn’t lead to anything sexual, you loved the way it made him blush.

“So sweet,” Hux whispered.

You opened your eyes just as Hux was removing his thumb and leaning over to replace it with his mouth, tongue shyly meeting your own. He kissed like it was his first time - hesitant,  _precious_. You could spend hours like this, just kissing and petting, letting him guide you into whatever position he wanted. It was so freeing, not having to make decisions anymore. Hux fed you, bathed you, played with you, gave you pleasure, made you feel wanted and adored just as you wanted and adored him. All you had to do was come when he called and accept the love he desperately had to give.

Hux broke off the heated kiss for a moment to catch his breath. Looping a finger under your collar, he led you to his bed and helped you up. Your muscles were weak now that most of your time was spent lounging in his quarters, so sometimes you required assistance moving. Hux didn’t mind, however. He liked you weak, helpless…  _tender_.

“Good job, pet,” Hux praised, giving your flank a pat and laying you down on the cool, clean linens. His hand strayed to your thigh to massage the already feeble muscle. “You work so hard for me, don’t you? Darling little calf.”

You nodded, eyelids heavy and head spinning from the effort it took just to move onto the bed. “Just wanna make you happy, master.” The words came out slurred, but that wasn’t uncommon these days.

You existed in a dreamlike state most of the time, drifting gently within the comfortable confines of Hux’s world, blissfully unaware of what happened outside your personal heaven unless Hux needed someone to vent to. Even then you barely registered what he was saying, more attuned to his emotions than what was causing them. You were his comfort, not his counselor.

Hux smiled at you from above. “You do. Everyday.”

The hand massaging your thigh travelled inward toward your genitals, already flushed and wanting. His touch was light as he played with you, almost lazy, and you found yourself trying to buck against his hand to increase the pressure.

“Patience,” Hux said. He smacked your aching groin in warning. “Greedy nerfs get nothing.”

Guiltily, you looked away and mumbled into the bedsheet, “I’m sorry, master.”

Hux returned to his gentle stroking after a moment, spreading your wetness around, stimulating and soothing all at once. “Shh, it’s alright. I forgive you. I know how  _hard_  it gets when you’re all alone, waiting.” The double entendre was not lost on you and you let out a tiny whimper to indicate as much, which seemed to delight Hux immensely.

Hux’s teasing went on for a while until you were panting, nearly shaking with the need to finish, and then he took his hand away completely. Squeezing your eyes closed, you whined at the sudden absence of his touch, but he wasn’t moved by the display. Deep down you knew he must have something even better planned for you than just manual stimulation, but that didn’t stop you from wishing he’d finish what he started.

“What did I tell you about being patient?” Hux chided, not unkindly, as he left the bed for a moment to retrieve something from his desk. “You’ll have your little orgasm in due time, I assure you.”

When Hux returned to the bed he was carrying a knife. It was one of your favorites - elegantly designed with a partially serrated edge and a matte black finish.

It had been too long since you were blessed with that knife.

Hux straddled you, dragging the flat of the blade against your cheek, your neck, your chest. The cold metal made you flinch at first, but it warmed quickly from being in contact with your heated skin. Your heart raced with anticipation - how deep would he cut today?

“So vulnerable…” Hux murmured into your ear, turning the blade so you could feel its tip as it was glided up and down your body. “Aching to be devoured.”

You groaned in response. It was hard to keep from squirming - Hux’s attention always made you needy, practically insatiable, and the way he looked at you at times like this could finish you off all on its own if you weren’t careful. The languid, sensuous way Hux grinded against you didn’t help either.

“What shall we have for dinner tonight? Soup?” Hux asked. With the knife he traced the shape of your brachioradialis, making your forearm jump a bit as the muscle tensed. “Perhaps not. This bit is still quite tough.” Hux moved the knife to your ribs, counting them out one by one, breath catching the further along he got. “Barbeque is tempting,” he started, licking his lips, “but I don’t have all the spices available at the moment.”

Hux tapped the knife against his chin in a thinking gesture. How he could be so patient while you were spread out like a buffet beneath him astounded you. He shifted his position, now kneeling on the bed between your legs rather than atop you.

“Legs up, knees toward your chest, darling.” You obeyed, legs falling open to put you on display. Hux shuddered at the sight. “Oh, pet… what a pretty picture you make.” He grabbed onto one of your legs, slinging it over his shoulder and scooting forward so he could kiss your inner thigh.

“Ah!” you cried out as he nibbled at your skin. Little red marks were left in the wake of his teeth and he soothed them with his tongue, laving at your skin like he was starving - which, in a way, he was.

“Yes,” Hux breathed out. “A roast of this would be perfect,” he said, punctuating his choice with a firm bite to your thigh. “Slow-cooked with vegetables, I should think. What do you say to a nice Sunday pot roast, pet? Hm? Would you like that?”

The thought of being used for your master’s dinner lit a fire inside you and you nodded furiously. You wished you could do this with him more often, but the simple human body you possessed wouldn’t allow you to. Unfortunate really, but it made the times you could indulge especially wonderful.

Hux bit you again, this time drawing blood which he was quick to lap up. With the knife he slashed into your flesh, gasping quietly as your muscle and fat was revealed. He dropped the knife to hold open the gash and licked inside with a kind of lust that could not be sated by mere sexual acts. Moaning against it, Hux serviced the wound, savoring the taste of you raw and bleeding. This was an appetizer; the roast would take a while to cook, after all.

Arousal coiled deep in your belly while you observed the passion with which your master consumed you; any pain was worth the sheer ecstasy that radiated from him the more he ate.

Hux picked up the knife and cut into you again, widening the wound. With startling urgency, he undid his trousers and pulled out his cock, lining it up with the opening he had created and thrusting in without warning between the skin and muscle.

“ _O-oh_ ,” Hux moaned as he lost himself in the drag of fat and muscle against his cock. “All this meat, all for me. How lucky I am.” He smiled at you, a wide, horrific, sunny smile made all the more charming to you by the blood smeared on his face.  _Your_ blood.

“Pet,” Hux whined, locking eyes with yours. “My sweet, precious calf…” He trailed off and collapsed on top of you, lips colliding with yours in a feverish kiss that left you breathless. The friction of Hux’s starched tunic against your groin had you whimpering into his mouth.

“Please, master. P-please-!” You pleaded for nothing in particular as he rocked into the wound, feeling the flesh pull and stretch and tear around the force of his thrusts.

Hux broke into a fit of manic giggles. “Bleating like a lamb, how absolutely darling! Are you going to come for me, baby? Come from my  _cock_  tenderizing your  _flesh_?”

You could barely speak, your assent coming out as a series of euphoric gasps that heightened in pitch when he finally spent himself between your muscle and skin. Hux pulled out with a sigh, holding your skin apart to admire the job he did on your leg.

It was grotesque, the sight of his come seeping out of your wound - pink and slimy like strawberry-cream filling oozing from a bitten pastry. Hux scooped most of the come out with his fingers and presented them to you. Without hesitation you took his fingers into your mouth, licking and sucking until there were no more traces of his spend and the supple leather of his glove shined like new.

—

The period immediately after these particular encounters always passed by in a haze. Dizzy from blood loss and mind blinking in and out of awareness, you could only make out bits and pieces of Hux’s routine. One moment you might sense meat peeling away from bone; in another, the tug of needle and thread, your body being put back to rights. Hux would carefully slip a straw between your lips, encouraging you to drink whatever electrolyte beverage he had specially prepared to assist in your return to consciousness.

By the time you were lucid again, the savory aroma of your own cooked flesh would waft through Hux’s quarters and the slick warmth of his mouth would envelop you. With eyes closed and brows furrowed in bliss, Hux would tease you until you came, soft lips pressed flush against your skin.

Like most other nights after bringing you off, Hux crawled up between your legs to kiss you. His hand, now bare, stroked and pressed against your sutured leg, reminding you of the dinner you were about to share.

As if on cue, your stomach began to rumble. Hux chuckled warmly - a rare treat only you had the privilege to witness -  and lifted himself off the bed.

“I suppose we should eat before it gets late, wouldn’t you agree?” Hux asked.

“Yes, master.”

A shy smile graced Hux’s features for a moment, his awe at your continued affection returning now that his lust had been sated. He cupped your cheek, and for a minute more simply looked at you. His gaze was unwavering, piercing. It cut deeper than his knives ever could, glimmering with possession and adoration.

With  _love_.

After retrieving the pot roast and helping you to sit up, Hux entered the bed and leaned against the headboard, cradling you in his arms and feeding you.

“Do you like it, my darling?” Hux murmured into your hair. “Do you like how you taste?”

You hummed with pleasure and carefully grabbed another morsel from between Hux’s fingers with your mouth.

“You’re so good, little lamb. So very, very good,” Hux praised once all the food had been eaten and you had licked his hands clean.

“Now tell me, what would you like for dessert?”


End file.
